Something Precious
by Porthos1013
Summary: Why didn’t Elizabeth ever tell Rodney about Simon? Ep tag for “Home.” McWeir


Author: Porthos  
Summary: Why didn't Elizabeth ever tell Rodney about Simon? Ep tag for "Home."  
Spoilers: Duh, Home.  
Author's notes: Okay, so right now I have two semi-longish fluff stories on the backburner, and have been concentrating on angst, which is a new thing for me. I hope it works.

And a special thanks to my lovely betas, Cali (aaobuttons) and Elizabeth (LittleKnux2008). You two are amazing, and you've helped me so much. You've helped me turn a story I wasn't particularly pleased with into something I'm very proud of, and that's quite an accomplishment. :D

oOo

Elizabeth sat in the Atlantis mess hall, sipping her lukewarm cup of coffee. She picked at her food half-heartedly, finding that her appetite had vanished. The meal had probably gone cold half an hour ago, anyway. Suddenly frustrated, she shoved her plate aside with a huff.

She had been waiting for Rodney in the mess hall for over an hour, since returning from the mist planet. They didn't have an appointment, but she knew he'd show up here eventually. She could have easily found him had she tried, but she had her reasons for avoiding him, at least for a while. She told herself it was because she needed time—time to prepare herself, time to think. In truth, she just didn't want to have this conversation. She'd been dreading this talk since the moment she realized it had to be done, back on the mist planet; but she knew she was only delaying the inevitable.

While she waited, she again asked herself the same question she'd repeated a thousand times, the one that up until recently she had been able to rationalize away. Why hadn't she ever told Rodney about Simon? She had known Rodney longer than anyone else on Atlantis. She had logged more hours of contact with him, through work and friendly chats, than any other member of her staff. He was above all someone she felt she could talk to, openly and honestly, and someone she would call a friend. She hoped he felt the same for her. Whether or not those feelings would continue after their conversation, she didn't know…

So why, if they were so close, had she neglected to tell him about the one person in her life who was supposed to hold a special place in her heart?

Quickly, the tired and often rehearsed answers came. In Antarctica, when she had initially met Dr. Rodney McKay, her first impression was that his brilliance was only exceeded by his arrogance. Truth be told, she had found his demeanor and attitude more than a little off-putting. She hadn't even wanted to be around him during work, much less tell him any personal information. However, Elizabeth possessed the keen eye of a diplomat, and as their work continued to bring them together, she began to use it on the man. She quickly realized that his gruff exterior was only a façade, hiding the insecure man beneath. She learned to ignore the prickly outer surface, and respect the man as a scientist. Through this respect she grew to admire certain aspects of his personality, like his determination and his enthusiasm. That admiration grew into affection, and her affection grew into…something else. She couldn't pinpoint the transition, the moment when she had gone from simply tolerating his presence to missing it when it was gone. But it had snuck up on her in such a way that she never really had the right moment to tell him about Simon.

She rolled her neglected coffee cup between her palms. No, that wasn't the truth. She could have told him any time, but she _chose_ not to. She didn't tell him about Simon because she didn't want him to know. She had realized that fact the moment Rodney—the "other" Rodney—had mention Simon. She had felt a sudden panic mingled with disappointment, like she was reaching for something shiny and precious, and her fingertips had just brushed the surface before it was snatched away, out of her grasp.

She had loved Simon, of course, she had never doubted that. He was such a gentle man, with a caring heart as big as the ocean of Atlantis. He loved her, which was why Elizabeth was sure he was patiently waiting for her back on Earth. She had hoped he wouldn't be, she admitted guiltily. On the mist world, when she reunited with the false Simon, she had hoped for the most fleeting of moments that he would be angry with her. She wanted him to rage and yell or silently turn her away, somehow making it clear that she was no longer welcome in his heart. She didn't want him to take her back, because it would alleviate her guilt and make what she was feeling for Rodney less objectionable. But of course, Simon being Simon, he had welcomed her with open arms, unwittingly piling more guilt on her already burdened shoulders. It didn't matter that it wasn't _really_ Simon, because she knew that was exactly how he would react to her return.

"Elizabeth!" A cheery voice called from across the mess hall, interrupting her thoughts. Recognizing the voice, she knew who she would see even before she looked up to meet his eyes, the same eyes she had often caught herself admiring as he spoke. They reminded her of the sky on a sunny, cloudless day; just as clear, and just as warm. Now, however, she didn't seek the warmth of his eyes. She took a drink of her cold coffee to hide her growing trepidation at his approach.

With an unceremonious clunk, Rodney set his tray full of food on the table across from Elizabeth, not even bothering to wait for an invitation. The site of his tray piled comically high with food made her forget her anxiety, and she was able to pretend for one moment that they were just two friends having lunch. "Do you have enough food there, Rodney?" she teased. "Or should I send a team to the mainland for an early harvest?"

"Ha ha," he mocked through a mouth full of food. "Elizabeth, we were on that mist planet for hours, and we have no way of knowing what they did to us while we were out. I know, I know," he held up a hand to stifle her objections, "Carson just cleared me, but he did say that my blood sugar seemed a little low. Therefore, I'm just taking appropriate measures to prevent…" he paused to cast a surreptitious glance in her direction, "passing out from…hypoglycemic shock. And I don't know about you," he added, gesturing with his fork for emphasis, "but I did feel a bit lightheaded after the trip back." With a twirl of his fork in the air at "lightheaded," he lost no time and stabbed at his casserole to prove his point. Pausing only long enough to swallow, he pointed at Elizabeth's plate. "You've hardly touched your food. Are you sure you're feeling alright?" he asked, his concern evident in his face and voice.

Elizabeth felt reality crashing back down around her at his comment. She would miss this. She would miss that ease of affection, of trust. His affection was so rarely shown, even among those he considered friends. Around her, however, it flowed out of him like water from a spring. It had become so commonplace between the two of them that now it just blended into the background. One of the things she'd never really appreciated until it was very nearly gone.

"I'm fine Rodney," she lied. "I'm just thinking about Earth…about home."

"Ah, yes. 'Home,'" Rodney replied, using a free hand and a loaded fork to make quotes in the air. "I only miss one thing about Earth: my cat, Jane." Rodney got a far off look that normally would have made Elizabeth smile. He paused, mid-chew, as a thought suddenly struck him. "And Jeannie, too, so I guess that makes two."

"Jeannie?" she asked, curiosity and a stab of envy getting the better of her.

"My sister," he replied offhandedly. "Half-sister, actually. We aren't that close. Still, I suppose you could say, uh, I left someone behind."

Elizabeth breathed a small sigh of relief at his answer, then immediately felt guilty for doing so. What right did she have to be jealous if Rodney had a girl back on Earth? She should be happy for him, as any _friend_ would. Elizabeth took another drink of her cold coffee, barely registering the taste. Would Rodney be happy for her? She knew the answer even before she formulated the question. That brought her to the heart of the matter; why she had been dreading this conversation all along. But she owed it to Simon. Sweet Simon, who was still waiting for her patiently, on Earth…

Elizabeth set her jaw, her sense of duty cementing her resolve. "I left someone behind, too," she said.

"Really? Who?" Rodney asked, his attention still focused on his plate.

"Simon," she said past the lump in her throat. "My boyfriend."

Rodney froze as the fork hit his mouth. It was only a moment. To the casual observer it would have passed in the blink of an eye, as Rodney quickly resumed eating in much the same manner as before. But Elizabeth noticed the difference. His posture was a little bit stiffer, his movements a little jerkier.

"I didn't know you had a boyfriend," Rodney said conversationally into his plate. She noticed he stabbed his pasta with a touch more force than was necessary.

Elizabeth stared into the blackness of her cold coffee. "I suppose it never came up," she answered. After a moment of silence that seemed to stretch for minutes, Elizabeth said, "I should have told you."

"Yes, you should have," Rodney started before she finished. He paused to lay down his fork, and then met her eyes for the first time since the mention of Simon's name. "I'm your friend, aren't I Elizabeth? You should be able to tell me these things." His tone was friendly, if a little reserved. Everything you would expect from a man who harbored no feelings beyond those of friendship. But his eyes belied his true feelings. Those eyes, which had always reminded her of the sky and the sun, now held all the cold and darkness of the seas of Antarctica.

She knew this would happen. She knew he would feel used or led on, like she was certain other women had made him feel before. He had expected Elizabeth to be someone who would never hurt him, as unrealistic as that expectation was; but when had Rodney ever allowed himself to be blinded by reality? He always seemed to find a solution to an impossible problem, pull a miracle out of thin air at the last second. Is it any wonder he expected the same out of those around him?

Elizabeth had let him down by not being honest with him, and by allowing him to think for even the briefest of moments that there could be something between them beyond friendship. No matter how much Elizabeth silently wished she could give him that, she couldn't, and he inevitably felt betrayed. She knew he'd pull away. She could almost see the little bricks stacking up around him as he reconstructed the wall of his personal fortress. Whether he felt he needed to protect himself from the pain of wanting what he couldn't have or from the embarrassment of what he perceived as unrequited feelings, she couldn't tell. All she knew was that she felt like he was slipping away, and there was nothing she could do but watch it happen.

Elizabeth felt the hot sting of unshed tears, suddenly hating herself for what she had done. "Rodney," she began, reaching for his hand, "I'm sorry."

Just as her fingertips brushed the back of his hand, he snatched it away at the contact. Instantly, he was on his feet. "I hate to eat and run, but I still have some work to do in my lab. And I can't leave those assistants of mine alone for too long before they start breaking things." He paused for a moment, as if he had more to add, or possibly waiting for her to say something. Even if she had been able to, she wouldn't have known what to say. He was already out of her reach. In any case, Rodney turned on his heel and left. He dumped his tray, still half-full of food, and walked out of the commissary, not bothering to look back.

As Elizabeth watched him walk away, the tears began to fall, and she couldn't shake the feeling that she'd just lost something precious.

oOo  
Author's notes: Okay, this is my first really serious angst attempt, so I'd love to hear what I did right or wrong from you. Thanks for reading! ;)


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